#Leadenhall Press

[uwmspeccoll]

Typography Tuesday

This week we present a few specimen pages from Volume IV, 1883, of The Printers’ International Specimen Exchange published in London for The Paper and Printing Trades Journal by Field & Tuer at “The Leadenhall Press.” The specimens shown here were printed by English and American printers.

The Exchange was conceived during the Caxton Celebration of 1877 as an expansion of the “Specimens” column appearing in the Paper & Printing Trades Journal edited by Andrew White Tuer. As an annual subscription publication for the “technical education of the working printer,” the Exchange became very influential and came out annually (with the last two volumes covering two-year periods) from 1880 to 1898. John Ruskin praised the goals of the project, and Queen Victoria accepted a copy of Volume VI, which we also hold. Our copy has the half-vellum deluxe binding side-stitched with catgut. 

View a post on Volume VI of The Printers’ International Specimen Exchange.

View more Typography Tuesday posts.

[muspeccoll]

#WordyWednesday

Hornbook: A pedagogical tool, consisting of a piece of paper attached to a wooden handle and covered by a thin plate of translucent horn. They were used in Europe and European colonies from the 16th century to the early 18th century. What exactly was on the paper would vary, but it typically included an alphabet, the ten Arabic digits, and a prayer.

Image: Tuer, Andrew White, 1838-1900. History of the horn-book. London: The Leadenhall Press and New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1897. 099 T81

(via Half bound — Italic · Rare Books: A Glossary · Special Collections and Archives)

[edupunkn00b]

Decoherence, Ch. 11: Someone Comes to Town, Someone Stays in Town

Creative Commons 1.0 Public Domain

Prev - Someone Comes to Town - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ] - Playlist

“All secrets become deep. All secrets become dark. That's in the nature of secrets.” - Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town by Cory Doctorow

WC: 1572 - Rated: T - CW: swearing -

2027, April 29, London, England

The sunlight streaming in from the window glowed through Remus’ swollen eyelids. He blinked then winced at the sandpapery drag over sore eyes. His pillowcase was cold and wet and his whole face throbbed like he’d been crying. Can you cry in your sleep?

He closed his eyes again and reached across the bed to turn off the alarm, then let his arm fall over the empty expanse. Why the fuck did he have such a big bed, anyway? It’s not like there was ever anyone here but him. Who had time for that? He should probably sell it, free up some space.

But he loved these soft blue sheets and sometimes, in that half-aware daze as he drifted off, his bed felt a little less empty, the pillow clutched to his chest almost… hugging him back. Soft hair like silk falling between his fingers, love and warmth right there in his grasp. Bright blue eyes looking back at him and a crooked little cupid’s bow smiling, whispering, “I love you, Mue—”

The alarm blared again. Thankfully, some scrap of sense in him had driven him to hit snooze instead of turning it off completely. He smacked the off button and heaved himself out of bed. The moment his feet touched the cold floor, everything hit him with a flash. 

The dreams!

Remus turned on the spot, scanning the room for something to write with. Where the fuck was he? Electric lights, a window that opened. He pressed his face to the window glass and caught the tiniest edge of a yellow and blue Aldi’s sign about a kilometer down the street. London.

A Sharpie lay abandoned on the floor and he picked it up and started writing on his bare arm. Last night had been… that Victorian kinda thing… big fireplace, heavy curtains on the window, feather-stuffed blanket on the bed. Big old house with Ro and Janus and Patton and Virgil. He’d turned five a couple weeks ago but he still had the little paper balloon he’d made him.

Okay, and the night before that had been. Nah. The fucking White House?

Shaking his head, Remus scrawled a question mark next to that one. That sounded like a dream-dream, not a memory, but still he wrote the name Gladys. Like in the old game? And before that was the motorbike. He could feel the buzz of the electric engine vibrating through his thighs, the clink of their helmets as he’d clung to Lo’s waist, leaning with him on the curves. Like a dance.

No. No, the last time he’d been there, he’d been alone. He’d woken up to the automatic lights, taken a shower and driven alone to CERN. But Lo had been here with him before. He remembered.

Nodding and muttering to himself, he sat on the edge of the bed as he wrote and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Hair wild, naked, with frantic markings between his tattoos over his arm and both legs. The shadows under his eyes looked painted on. He looked like a circus freak show.

He fucking was a circus freak show. Was he losing it? How do you know when your impossible thoughts are just… thoughts?

The marker stilled in his hand and he let his eyes close. “Find me, Meus… Find me.”

Remus opened his eyes and copied down the words that ran so clearly through his mind. “I’ll find you, Lo,” he promised aloud, then showered, careful not to scrub at the permanent marker on his skin. He’d copy it out again. And again. And again. Until he found him.

~

The lab was close to home and last night’s downpour had petered out to a drizzle, so Remus walked the half kilometer to the imposing grey tower. Fucking ‘Cheese Grater.’ They just needed a ‘Chips’ building and they’d complete the set of food-themed skyscrapers. The Leadenhall building wasn’t the Tower of London or even the Shard, but it had stood long enough to get its own nickname. And it had been long enough since it had been erected that most people weren’t really sure how far down the sub levels went.

People who didn’t work in the quantum computing lab, at least.

Remus keyed his way onto an elevator going down and pressed G2. He was early and the only one heading in at this hour. 

“It’ll be worth it, Lo,” I say, laughing as the man with the crooked cupid’s bow groans and chugs his third cup of tea. 

Was Lo his name? No… His real name was Logan. Like the superhero. 

The elevator dings at G-2. We get off and walk down the hall to another elevator and thumb the biometric scanner to call it. “We can get a test run in before anyone else even logs time on the multi-core.”

“I’ll agree with you in about an hour, Meus,” he mutters and, when we’re alone in the second elevator, hooks my arm to tug me closer. He leans on my shoulder, melting against me. It feels right. 

I turn my head, and press kisses into his soft hair, chuckling at the way it tickles my cheek and warms my lips.

The doors opened with an empty clang and Remus stepped out of the elevator alone and walked down the hall to prep for the clean room. If he hurried, he might even get in two test runs of the new qubit array before anyone else showed up.

~

It was after seven by the time Remus finally shut down his workstation and peeled off his cleansuit. He stood there for a good ten minutes in that little alcove, face pressed against the bonnet, breathing in the weirdly comforting scent of Tyvek and compressed air propellant. It’s what Lo’s hair smelled like in some of his memories. Remus was pretty sure, at least. 

He was losing it. 

Scoffing, he shoved the bonnet and his bunny suit into a recycler and thumbed his way out and into the hall.

Outside of the dry, cold, recycled air of the clean room, Remus sucked in a deep breath and made his way toward the first set of elevators. His stomach grumbled. Fuck, he’d forgotten to eat lunch again. 

Once upstairs, he paused just outside the lobby doors. The rain had picked up while he’d been working, the morning’s soft drizzle blooming into a full-on thunderstorm. He could always duck into the Aldi’s between the lab and home. There hadn’t been much in the fridge at home anyway, and with any luck, maybe he could wait out a bit of the storm while he was shopping.

Hair dripping, Remus lingered in the produce section. He spent just long enough staring at the loganberries to make the manager nervous and call for a security sweep. “We all know what code B in aisle 9 is, right, Lo?” he muttered. A woman picking out strawberries watched him from the corner of her eye until he retreated to the freezer section in search of something he could toss in the microwave and call it a fucking night.

Woo-ee, party animal right here. He might even make it to bed before nine-thirty.

When he got to the checkstands, he eyed the line that snaked out of the lane and halfway down the soup aisle and shook his head. The buggy little machines they laid out to convince their customers to work for free checking out their own groceries sat forlornly beeping and flashing to no-one. U-scan it was. 

He fell into a pattern scanning and bagging his groceries, the monotonous chant of the computers around him lulling him into his own sort of trance. The voices in the supermarket layered and fizzled together until the voices in his memory took over. 

“Gotta say ‘yes’ to something for the little guy.”

“As though you let that child lack for anything, ��Uncka Re,’” Lo murmurs near my ear as he slips his arm through mine.

While the receipt slowly printed, Remus shoved his wallet in his pocket and grabbed the bags with his other hand. Turning, he tucked the receipt into the bag and looked up.

Right into Lo’s eyes.

Remus stared at the raven-haired man in front of him. “Lo?” Eyes the color of the sky looked right into him. “Is that really you?”

Lo’s face bloomed, that crooked little cupid’s bow spreading into a grin. “Meus!” he cried and threw himself into Remus’ arms. “You’re you,” he whispered, face pressed against his chest. “You—you’re actually you, aren’t you?”

Remus was still holding the groceries but he could only tighten his arms around Lo’s back, afraid to move enough to set them down. He didn’t want to let go, he couldn’t let go. They held each other until someone shuffled past them, muttering under their breath as they passed. “Lo?” He pulled away just enough to look into his eyes. “Lo, what’s happening?”

“Meus…” He reached up to cup Remus’ cheek. Another customer pushed their cart past them. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk.” 

Nodding, Remus let go but then moved close again and laced their fingers together. He bent and picked up Lo's bag where he’d dropped it. “I… we?” He shook his head. Would Lo’s clothes still be there in the wardrobe when they arrived? Or had that all been in his head? A half-woken dream? Was any of this real?

“The flat’s close by.”

[trashedork]

Just For You

Pairing: Liam Evans/OC Words: 2,227 CW: Mild suggestive behavior, slight spoilers for Liam's route Note: This is very, very, very self-indulgent. Here's my OC's profile sheet if you want to take a look. x Header and divider made by @/natimiles

Rina's cocoa-colored eyes slowly opened, and she released a quiet yawn before stretching her arms above her head. As she blinked, the morning light streaming in through the window caused her vision to blur momentarily. A soft chuckle caught her attention, prompting her to blink a few more times until her sight cleared. It was at that moment when she noticed Liam beside her, his arm casually resting around her waist, his smile exuding sweetness.

"Good morning, Rina." He greeted, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Mhm… Good morning.” 

Liam affectionately pressed his nose against her cheek, letting out a giggle. "You look so cute when you're sleepy." He remarked before planting a gentle kiss beneath her ear. "Let’s stay in bed for a little longer, okay?”

Rina giggled at the feeling of his lips, instinctively turning her head away from him. “Liam! That tickles!”

“I know how much you like it when I kiss you here. Let me do it some more. I want to hear more of your voice.” The young man declared, his voice as smooth as honey. He laid more kisses on her soft skin, eventually running kisses down the side of her neck. 

Despite relishing the delightful sensations and feeling the urge to linger in bed, Rina was aware that it was time to rise and start the day. She wriggled out of Liam's firm hold, shifting to her side and moving away. Looking back at her lover with a blush on her cheeks, she said, “Come on. We should get ready.”

Liam emitted a whine from the depths of his throat, causing his lower lip to protrude slightly. However, a smile soon spread across his face, and he moved closer to Rina and kissed her cheek. “Okay. Can we go on a date?”

“Hehe. Yes. We can.”

“Yay!”

Following their morning routine of getting dressed and having breakfast together, the couple made their way to Leadenhall Market. Hand in hand, they strolled through the market, admiring the displays in the shop windows and indulging in delicious treats from different vendors. 

While they were walking, Liam noticed the furrowed brows and the faint pout on Rina's face, which made him concerned. In a tender manner, he called out to her. “Rina? What’s wrong?”

The ebony-haired girl blinked, her eyes widening as she looked up at him. She shook her head, her lips forming a smile. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Did something bad happen? You can tell me. I’ll make it all go away.” Liam insisted, his magenta eyes darkening at the thought of his lover being harmed.

“It’s okay. Really. I’m fine.” Rina squeezed his hand tightly, trying to reassure him that there was nothing to worry about. “Thank you, though.”

Liam's expression softened, yet the concern remained palpable on his face. His eyes remained fixed on Rina, who stared ahead, feeling the all-too-familiar sensation of rain cascading down upon his heart. Doubt crept in as he questioned whether he had once again made a mistake. He wracked his memory but was unable to recall any recent mistakes he had made. 

And yet… And yet, for some reason, Rina was acting strange. It was like she was hiding something from him. Something that he shouldn’t know. 

No, no, no. 

Don’t think like that, Liam. Rina wouldn’t hide something from you unless it was really important. 

However, try as he might, he couldn't shake off the unsettling notion that there was something amidst. 

She probably found someone better than you. Someone that can make her happier. A voice within him, the one that belonged to another him, who he hadn't heard in a long time, said. After all, who would love someone like you? Even though Rina saved you, you still think that you’re nothing. Isn’t that right?

Yes. That’s right.

Rina was a kind and bright person. She was no match for someone like Liam who considered himself worthless and flawed. But the image of Rina being taken away by another man… No. He couldn’t accept that. 

He loved her. His affection for her knew no bounds. It was a deep, unwavering love that consumed his every thought and action.

“... am? Liam? Are you okay?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, he turned towards Rina whose eyes were wide in curiosity. With a gentle nod and a warm smile, he reassured her. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Rina observed him for a few minutes before glancing around the market. Her attention was drawn to a dress in a nearby window, a vibrant blue hue adorned with intricate white lace accents on the shoulders and collar. A blue ribbon was elegantly fastened at the top of the lace. The dress boasted white billowy sleeves that extended to the elbows, while the skirt featured double layers and was completed with white trimmings. It was beautiful and Rina pondered how she would appear wearing it, wondering if Liam would like to see her in it.

All of a sudden, a quiet rumbling noise could be heard, startling her. She looked up at Liam, giving him a sheepish smile. “I'm still hungry…”

“Okay. Let’s go get something to eat.” He laughed, his eyes crinkling in amusement. Pausing, he raised Rina's hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss on it. “I’ll do anything for my cute Rina.”

“Liam! We’re in public!”

“Haha. Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t help it.” He gently pulled on Rina's hand, guiding her through the crowded street. “Let’s go.”

As the scorching sun descended, casting a vibrant orange hue across the sky, Liam and Rina found themselves back at Crown Castle. Their date had been so enjoyable that it had consumed a significant portion of their day, leaving Liam with little time to spare before his stage rehearsals for the upcoming play at Scala.

Upon stepping into Rina's room, Liam let out a sigh, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “It’s time for me to go.” He stated with a smile playing on his lips, casting a glance at Rina and tilting his head slightly. “You’ll be a good girl while I’m gone, right?” 

“Yeah…” Rina replied quietly with a nod, her cheeks flushed.

“Hehe. All right. Well, I’ll be off.” Liam gently placed his hand on the small of her back and planted a tender kiss on her lips. Stepping back, he uttered, “See you later.” 

Nodding again, Rina smiled. “Bye. Have fun.”

Liam turned on his heel, closing the door on his way out. The heels of his shoes clacked against the floor, echoing throughout the hallway. Although he felt content, the negative emotions from earlier still weighed heavily on his heart. He trusted Rina. He knew she wouldn’t betray him. Even so… 

Those feelings lingered during his time at Scala. He did his best to suppress them, smiling and laughing like always with Tom and his colleagues. Still, it didn’t stop him from thinking about Rina. A sweet and kind girl like her shouldn’t continue to be with someone like him. Yet, they had made it this far together. He was reluctant to part ways with her now.  

He was still growing, learning how to love himself slowly but surely. It was all thanks to Rina. If it weren’t for her, if they hadn't met, then he would still be the same him from long ago. Rina meant everything to him. She was the center of his universe. He would do anything to make her happy. 

When it came time to leave the theater, he bid farewell to Tom and the rest of the individuals present. Afterwards, he opted to visit the flower shop he often frequented, the very same establishment where he had purchased modern roses for Rina many times. Grasping the bouquet firmly with one hand, he proceeded to make his way back to Crown Castle. 

Entering the foyer, he walked to Rina's room, unable to contain his smile. He could already picture the joy on her face when he presented her with the bouquet.

“Rina! I’m ba—! Huh?” 

He opened the door with a surge of enthusiasm, but it quickly transformed into surprise as he beheld the breathtaking view before him. Standing there was Rina, donned in a stunning blue dress, with her jet-black hair elegantly tied into a low ponytail cascading down the right side of her shoulder.

She caught sight of him, taken aback by the unexpected outburst. A shy smile then graced her face as she clasped her hands together. “Oh. Hi, Liam.”

“That dress… Where did you get it from?” He asked curiously, slowly stepping towards her, his gaze still fixated on her attire.

“Well… I saw it when we were at Leadenhall Market earlier. After you left, I went back with Ellis and bought it. After that, the maids helped me put it on and styled my hair. And then, I waited for you.” Rina tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, lowering her chin in a bashful manner. “Do you like it?” 

Liam nodded, his eyes forming gentle creases of delight. “Yeah. It looks really good on you. You look like a princess.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Rina breathed a sigh of relief, briefly shutting her eyes. “Phew… That’s good. It’s kinda embarrassing wearing something like this, but… I wanted to do it for you.”

“For me?” Liam echoed, tilting his head.

“Mhm-hm. You always give me a lot of things. Like roses and letters. You even tried to grow some flowers before too. That made me really happy. I wanted to do the same thing for you. So, I thought surprising you like this would make you happy.” 

Liam gazed at her in astonishment, his jaw dropping. He couldn't fathom that she had done such a thing. Then again, he couldn't ignore the fact that she had also gifted him an arrangement of modern roses before, which had brought him immense joy that words couldn't express. That same feeling of happiness overwhelmed him now. He was grateful that she had thought of him.

All the bad feelings that had consumed him vanished completely. He was able to take deep breaths once more.

With a gentle smile forming at the corners of his mouth, he enveloped Rina into a hug, encircling his arm around her waist. “Thank you. I’m happy. Really, really happy.” Realizing that he was still holding the bouquet, he gently pulled back to hand it to her. “Here. This is for you.” 

Giggling, Rina took the bouquet from him and held it close to her heart, inhaling the delightful scent emanating from the roses. “Thank you.” Carefully, she set it onto her desk and returned to Liam’s side, nestling her cheek against his chest and embracing him tightly, savoring the comforting aroma of vanilla that filled her nose.

Liam returned the embrace, resting his chin on top of her head. After a few moments of silence, he spoke in a soft and husky voice. “Hey… Since you wore this dress for me, can I do whatever I want with it?” 

“Of course you can." Rina responded with a bashful smile, her face reddening. She knew exactly what was going to happen from here on out. 

“Hm… Then, in that case…” 

Without warning, Liam enveloped Rina's waist with one arm and slid the other beneath her thighs, carrying her to her bed as if she were a bride. With utmost care, he delicately placed her onto the soft sheets, hovering above her. “Ah… You’re so cute. I’ll give you lots of love.”

Lowering himself, he pressed his lips against hers, capturing her breath with each stolen kiss. The kisses were filled with fervor and intensity, a clear reflection of their deep affection. Pulling back, Liam looked down at Rina, his eyes shining with excitement, their vibrant magenta color captivating. His hand moved up her side, reaching the delicate lace border of her dress, and finally entwined his fingers with hers as he reached her hand, which rested near her head.

“Please stay by my side forever, Rina. I… I was scared that you were going to leave me earlier. That you didn't love me anymore.” He confessed, his eyes revealing the fear and concern he had been hiding. “I don't want to let you go. I love you. I love you so much.”

Rina gazed at him, surprised. She then furrowed her brows, guilt welling up inside her. Using her free hand, she caressed Liam’s cheek with a gentle touch, brushing her thumb across his skin. “I'm sorry, Liam. I didn't mean to make you sad. I'll never leave you. I promise.”

With those comforting words, Liam smiled and proceeded to kiss her repeatedly, enveloping them both in a night filled with love and pleasure. He pressed his body against hers as if they were two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly into place.

The passion between them ignited into something fierce and all-consuming, each kiss deeper than the last, each touch more intense than before. It felt like an explosion of emotions – raw desire mixed with tenderness and utter devotion – all wrapped up into one powerful moment that left them both breathless and utterly captivated with each other.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still – all else faded into oblivion except for their love which grew stronger with every passing second.

[yama-bato]

          The book of delightful and strange designs; being one hundred facsimile illustrations of the art of the Japanese stencil-cutter, to which the gentle reader is introduced                                  by    Tuer, Andrew White, 1838-1900                                                                                                                                              Publication date                              1893                                                          Topics        Decoration and ornament, Stencil work                  Publisher    London, The Leadenhall press, ltd.; New York, C. Scribner's sons; [etc., etc.]    

[suninagarajan]

Governor - General

Twenty Seventh Day of February, In the year of our lord 1816 

Honorable, my lord Allen, Lord Speaker

Director, East India Company

Leadenhall Street

England

Your Lordship,

Though I have been put asunder from our blessed plot these five years past and the endless exile of my doom has left me low of spirit and poor of ink I take my pen in hand and like an avenging angel with sword of justice held aloft, address those matters my lordship made fit to unburden himself of in your letter to me of the twenty seventh last.

My lordship makes further enquiries of your humble servant as to our progress among the Hin – doo and the Mussel – men,  alas my lordship must first permit me to trespass on his  patience a trifle longer and with dew stained eye, like Euripides before the Athenians, keep alive the light of justice.

My lordship is aware that it was in the fifty-second year of the glorious reign of his blessed Christian majesty George of the third that it first pleased my lordship to bestow upon me the title of Governor - General of Kangalhi. And though I may have sought and would have surely gained greater reward on the fields of Flanders, I have for my lordship’s sake forsworn mere mortal glories, which my natural sensitivities and talents would have of certain revealed in time, and like Pilgrim walked the harder road to salvation. My lordship will perceive my astonishment therefore, that word has reached your gentle ear of transgressions. 

And that I, who as a babe forshew my home to march with brave North against the king’s enemies, should be so cruelly used.   

It is suggested, by whom I know not, but surely some dog in want of a kick, that I did appear on parade sans perruque.  

This is an accursed slander!

But my lord must, by virtue of being a man of some understanding, concede that Kangalhi is damnable hot and the European is not built to stand in the sun in such contraptions as is likely to send a man mad with wanderings and distract an English gentleman from his Christian duty.  Further my lordship is perhaps unaware that such contraptions being comprised largely of hair, can in the Kangalhi heat heap such odours and substances of a diabolical nature down upon one’s head which might preclude a man from his senses.

I am at pains to press upon my lordship that the removal of said contraption was solely for the benefit of the Company and my lordship, and was done, if it was done, as ever in service of one’s duty to God, England and the King! 

My lordship further requests of me to account for the Claret account as issued last. 

My lordship will surely not expect any man of such strong religious feelings to comport himself in wig and coat without a small emolument to soothe the brow and becalm the raging thirst that hammers at his soul.  For does not St Paul urge Timothy thus  - no longer drink only water, but use a little wine for the sake of your stomach and your frequent ailments. 

I am sure my lordship doth require no further account safe in the understanding that as an honest good and true Englishman I follow the example of our Lord and his Christian teachings. I throw myself on my lordships tender mercies and beg that he, in his wisdom, doth dismiss these cruel commentaries and allow your humble servant’s character to be bescumbered no more. 

I come at last, with a heavy heart and burdened soul to the wickedest liable of all. I know not where my lordship has found out these defamation's but am comforted in the knowledge that all great men have their detractors. 

I am accused of lewd practices,  to whit – fornication! 

And with a native

It is true I keep two mussel-women in my house merely to see to what little needs I possess and often think, perchance the compensations of serving a great cause may be better kept in one’s pocket than given to two such maids with so little to show for it.  That such innocent understandings have been turned to slander is a matter for pistols – for my lordship must agree that while the practice of employing natives in one’s house is acceptable to society a man can hardly be hung for it!  

And individuals who have so little to do but to question how a man of good character and judgement – and an Englishman too, spends what little leisure hours he possesses is beyond the patience of any man and I will trouble no more to besmirch my lordships ears with such offensives.  

Having thus unburdened my conscience I shall protest no longer, confident that my lordship as a man of such sweet and tender understandings will no longer allow himself to be troubled by such piffling trifles.  

Having slain the dragon of calumny and removed the cursed stain from my Christian heart I turn to the matters on which my lordship has requested an elucidation and assure my lord that such matters would have reached your ear sooner but for the want of decent ink and good paper.

I shall dispense with the items briefly for I know my lord is most pressing of time and is not disposed to spend endless hours on wanderings.

Item 1. My lordship bids me to report on the broader situation in India – my lordship is aware that of the five kingdoms, which for propriety's sake, my lordship has deemed fit to prefer provinces, three are now under operational control.

My lordship will remember the long and tedious war that did bring this Leonidas to these shores that saw the demon sultan torn from his false throne and will no doubt be keen to bestow such honors as befits a Christian warrior when I tell his lordship that Andhra - Gho with the benefit of a battalion of 400 loyal British bulldogs under the command of Major Hamilton remains loyal to the Company. 

Equally the Raja of PoohoRi has brought his mind to the excellent understanding that those men of valor who have for so long traversed the oceans and brought reason and Christian charity to so many who might otherwise find themselves in want of a civilizing influence, and who finds himself beset by hill tribes and lacking protection has, after consideration signed the agreement which my lordship was at pains to resolve, and is now firmly attuned to our way of thinking. My lordship may choose to consider such progress has been purchased on the cheap when he learns  that we have expended less than 200 men total in the endeavor and have gained a province!

The Nawab of Kul, who, when not in company, one might describe as an excellent fellow, though not a Christian or a gentleman, has given up the fight that so many are called to and so few can answer and agreed to the terms my lordship set out in his past correspondence.  We have, at the Nawab’s request quelled the murderous hordes who would beset this kingdom  province with the fire of a thousand hells and are, as my lordship will be comforted to hear,  at present very comfortable situated within the Queen's Palace at the indulgence of the Nawab and with an excellent view of the harbor and ample room to house 500 in the barracks below.

As for Dadra-Bo, my lordship may be aware that the question of succession following the demise of the previous Nazim has for some time gone unanswered.  Nawab Abdallah who is the older of the only living sons of the former Nazim has, one might determine correctly, claimed that title from his now departed ancestor. His situation however is confused as the Nazim finds himself bereft of male offspring and as peculiarities with Indian law require at the very least that a Nawab can do his duty, his brother Nazim Abbas who is the younger although both were brought forth from their mother on the same day, has had himself declared Nazim! 

As he is, dissimilar to his brother in at least one regard, cursed with an excess of Adams. 

Unsurprisingly those perfidious dogs and acolytes of La Bonaparte have attempted to exploit the situation to their own interests and favour the younger Nazim.  The hated Dutch Company have, as your lordship is aware, hopes of a monopoly on pepper, and have for some time now backed a different horse. The situation in Dadra-Bo remains confused therefore and the port city of Barsaat remains a “freeport” – for neither Frenchie nor Hollander can agree on who should charge what fee for what packet and who should have which warehouse, and as your lordship was kind enough to express previously since Flanders field the French have found their ship is leaking and may perforce find that a client in India stretches their resources a little far. As neither Castor nor Pollox are able to gain the advantage my lordships excellent policy of patience, patience, patience remains the byword of every company man, myself included.

Item 2. My lordship asks for news of the province of Kuru – Panchala and what progress we have made in that regard.  Alas our progress has been slowed by the damnable heat, the lack of water supply and that insufferable bounder the Maharaja of Kuru Panchala.  

The ride to Kai Purija is of five days hence, and for a European to partake of such a journey without the Maharaja’s support would surely be madness and certain death. Kai Purija, as your lordship will learn from the enclosed maps, sits in the middle of a fertile desert and water in the region is controlled by the Maharaja through a series of irrigation structures erected by his ancestors which pepper the province.

Our excellent surveyors Colonel Rawlings and Major Maitland have been about the province with the aid of guides from Kangalhi and Kul in Dadra-Bo, and believe they may have stumbled upon an excellent situation, some two days ride from the very spot from which your correspondent now toils at his labors.

However, the situation in question, a remarkable palace (and according to Major Maitland a rather fine example of middle Mahariti architecture built by a Mahariti Maharaja, unknown) is serviced by a single well, the aqueduct which serves the palace having long since fallen for lack of attention. And if a man wishes to live long enough to see his maker or to spend any time in Kuru Panchala without expiring immediately from heat, exhaustion or thirst a new conduit is necessary and such matters require express permission from the Maharaja. 

We have as requested made a number of geological surveys in the area of Kuru Panchala directly adjacent to the border with Kul and in Dadra-Bo in the south of Kangali going eastward, and I enclose copies of these for your lordships perusal.

I hesitate to suggest that my lordship may consider these achievements quite enough for any man and may be tempted to recall his Hector to spend his days in the Elysian fields to reflect on well won glory.

I close your excellent friend and humble servant 

My lord I hesitate to amend this well-crafted missal with what my lordship may consider to be an irrelevant adjunct but am reminded that whence last we had occasion to correspond you did request of me those matters of a personal nature which might from time to time fall into the ear of your humble servant.    

Colonel Rawlings who has just returned from a three-week sojourn in Kuru Panchala where he attempted to reach and survey the great forest, has reliably informed me that Prince Lakshmana is gravely ill. My lord will no doubt remember that Prince Lakshmana became heir to the throne when his elder half-brother Prince Indranil-Ghok along with a sizable number of court officials and members of the Royal family were struck down by the pestilence some years ago.  This event occasioned the unusual and some might say unchristian practice of the Maharaja putting aside his then Rani (the mother of the deceased) in favour of her sister who is in fact the mother of the current heir! - What ways these people have!

I will endeavour to perceive more of the situation at what I hesitate to assume is your lordships pleasure but Colonel Rawlings informs that the news of Prince Lakshmana’s condition is well known amongst the common people and they make liberty to discuss the matter freely not knowing that Colonel Rawlings having spent some time in this land following the rather unpleasant events of the regimental dinner which shall as ever remain unspoken, has sufficient Hin – doo, a smattering of Persian and some Maharati  which allows him to travel quite naturally amongst the natives.  Rawlings informs that according to the common people the young prince has in fact been ailing for some time and Maharaja Riphender Narayan – Goi has now sent forth his palace agents and instructed them to find a cure.  

They say none dare venture near Kai Puriji empty handed!

I make at liberty to add this news to my previous endeavors merely out of respect to your lordship

And now I close,

Your Humble servant

Brigadier – General William Spencer Harcourt

Governor- General Kangalhi

Queens Palace,

Hundyrabha

Kangalhi

India

[heaveninawildflower]

Designs of Japanese stencils taken from ‘The book of delightful and strange designs; being one hundred facsimile illustrations of the art of the Japanese stencil-cutter, to which the gentle reader is introduced’  by Andrew White Tuer.

Published 1893 by The Leadenhall Press.

Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute Library.

archive.org

[books0977]

Told After Supper. Jerome K. Jerome. London: The Leadenhall Press ... Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent, & Co., Ltd. New York: Scribner & Welford ..., 1891. Illustrations by Kenneth M. Skeaping. First edition. 

"British humorist who satirized the ghostly tale ... spoofs a popular Victorian tradition, the Christmas ghost story ... Using as its framing device a drunken storytelling session round the fireside on Christmas Eve, this slim book pokes fun at various conventions of the genre ..."

[businessweekme]

The 16 Best New Restaurants Opening in 2019

The year ahead looks promising for London diners as high-profile chefs and restaurateurs from the U.K. and around the world prepare to open new restaurants, even in the face of Brexit concerns.

Here’s the ones we are most awaiting.

Bob Bob Cité

This long-awaited establishment in the City financial district is the baby brother of Bob Bob Ricard, one of London’s most glamorous restaurants. At the original, in Soho, each table is a booth equipped with a button to press for emergency supplies of Champagne. The new dining room in the Leadenhall Building (aka the Cheesegrater) will serve an accessible menu created by chef Eric Chavot, who previously held two Michelin stars at the Capital. The Russian owner, Leonid Shutov, says there have already been thousands of reservation requests. It’s been a long wait. The opening was earlier scheduled for January 2018. Bob Bob Ricard is known for posh comfort food such as lobster macaroni. 122 Leadenhall St., EC3V 4AB. Opening: March 25.

Adam Handling Chelsea

Adam Handling is a Scottish chef who first made his name in East London, serving modern British cuisine at the Frog. He’s edgy and creative and in some ways was a surprise choice to head the whole food operation at the luxury Belmond Cadogan Hotel. As chef-proprietor, he’ll be responsible for everything from breakfast, through afternoon tea to room service. But attention is focused on the flagship restaurant. “There will be six starters, six mains and six desserts, plus a tasting menu,” he says. “And we’ll be serving lots of old-school Burgundy and lots of Champagne by the glass. It is going to be very elegant.” (Chef Adam Simmonds will head the kitchen.) Handling is known for fun snacks such as cheese doughnuts and dishes such as mackerel with oyster, apple and cucumber. 75 Sloane St., SW1X 9SG. Opening: March 1.

Darby’s

Irish chef Robin Gill is best known for the Dairy, a quietly ambitious neighborhood restaurant in Clapham. The ambition is on an entirely different scale at Darby’s, opposite the new U.S. embassy in Nine Elms. This 5,000 square-foot (464 square-meter) establishment in a new development will feature a bakery, a 360-degree bar and an oyster bar, as well as an all-day dining room with an open kitchen. (Darby’s will also serve a dramatic sky pool that traverses to the next building.) There will be live music, too. “I took a lot of inspiration from big establishments like Balthazar and other places in New York,” Gill says. “There will be a big menu with dishes that people want to eat. It’s going to be old school, not current and fashionable.” Darby was his father’s nickname. It sounds like a labor of love. Dishes are likely to include burgers, steaks and lobster rolls. 3 Viaduct Gardens Road, Embassy Gardens, SW11 7AY. Opening: Late March.

Soutine

This St. John’s Wood establishment is the latest from the owners of the Wolseley, Chris Corbin and Jeremy King. It’s named after the Russian-French painter Chaim Soutine, and the menu will be largely French. “In terms of its role in the community, it will be similar to Fischer’s (Marylebone) and Colbert (Sloane Square),” King says, referencing two of the group’s other neighborhood restaurants. “But it will be individual and has been created for this location and this community. St. John’s Wood has fantastic heritage in terms of artists and that was the catalyst for the idea.” The group is best known for central European dishes such as schnitzel. 60 St John’s Wood High St., NW8 7SH. Opening: April.

Others to Watch

Chef Nathan Outlaw will open a seafood restaurant at the Goring hotel in Victoria in the “late spring.” Outlaw holds a total of three Michelin stars at his two fish restaurants in Cornwall. The Goring traces its history to 1910 and is a favorite of the royal family. Cronut king Dominique Ansel plans a second bakery in Covent Garden. Details are under wraps, and the New York-based chef won’t even disclose the exact location. The opening is scheduled for “late spring.” Claridge’s has plans for a new restaurant to replace Fera, which closed on Dec. 31.

There is widespread speculation it will be a New York import but the hotel won’t confirm and has no immediate plans for an announcement. Chef André Garrett has taken over as executive chef at the Corinthia hotel and plans a new direction for the Northall restaurant, with a menu incorporating a broad fish and seafood selection influenced by the Mediterranean. Chef James Lowe of Lyle’s and his general manager and business partner John Ogier plan to open a wine bar and bakery in Borough in the “spring/summer,” Eater London reported.

Lyle’s places at 38 in the World’s 50 Best Restaurants rankings. Lowe is known for seasonal dishes with just a few ingredients, such as beetroot, cured Gloucester Old Spot and horseradish. Chef Jason Atherton told Square Meal he plans to open a 16-seat restaurant called H.O.M.E. next to his flagship Pollen Street Social. Guests will buy tickets to dine on a set menu. (No details yet on the likely opening date.) Atherton holds a Michelin star at Pollen Street Social for dishes such as saddle of rabbit, pancetta, salt-baked turnips, tarragon. Spanish chef Quique Dacosta, who holds three Michelin stars at his flagship in Alicante, plans to open a restaurant in Fitzrovia in coming months. Details may be released next week, but it’s already known the focus will be on rice dishes and Spanish ingredients.

Dacosta is known for his modern cooking using local produce. D&D London, whose establishments include Sartoria, plan to open a 9,257-square-foot (860-square-meter) restaurant in the “spring” on the 14th floor of a new development, 120 Fenchurch St., adjacent to Leadenhall. Instagram favorite chef Salt Bae plans to open a U.K. outpost of his Nusr-Et steakhouse in the Park Tower Knightsbridge, later this year. No details have been announced. The Turkish chef is best known for the theatrical flourish with which he seasons steaks at the table. Nusr-Et has 18.6 million Instagram followers.

Allegra restaurant will open at the Stafford hotel, Queen Elizabeth Park, in April. Chef Patrick Powell, formerly of Chiltern Firehouse, will serve a modern European menu in the seventh-floor restaurant, opening out onto sky gardens. Chef-patron Jackson Boxer of  St Leonards will open Orasay in Notting Hill early this year with chef Andrew Clarke. The 50-seater restaurant on Kensington Park Road will focus on seafood. Boxer and Clarke are known for their cooking over an open fire. SpiceBox vegan curry restaurant will open in Walthamstow on Jan. 29 after a soft opening (with 50 percent off food) from Jan. 23-27. The former street-food operator will serve dishes such as jackfruit jalfrezi and a three-grain pilau.

The post The 16 Best New Restaurants Opening in 2019 appeared first on Bloomberg Businessweek Middle East.

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[michaelmoonsbookshop]

Attractive full morocco leather gilt binding 

Eton Songs 

written by Arthur Campbell Ainger set to music by Joseph Barnby Illustrated by Herbert Marshall London The Leadenhall Press 1891-2

[uwmspeccoll]

Typography Tuesday

This week we present a new acquisition, Volume VI, 1885, of The Printers’ International Specimen Exchange published in London for The Paper and Printing Trades Journal by Field & Tuer at “The Leadenhall Press.” The specimens shown here were printed by printers in Scotland, England, Wales, Netherlands, Germany, and France. A number of the specimens were printed by printer’s apprentices.

The Exchange was conceived during the Caxton Celebration of 1877 as an expansion of the "Specimens" column appearing in the Paper & Printing Trades Journal edited by Andrew White Tuer. As an annual subscription publication for the "technical education of the working printer," the Exchange became very influential and came out annually (with the last two volumes covering two-year periods) from 1880 to 1898. John Ruskin praised the goals of the project, and Queen Victoria accepted a copy of Volume VI, specimens of which are shown here. Our copy has the half-vellum deluxe binding side-stitched with catgut. We have also acquired Volume IV, 1883, and we will be showing more specimens from these volumes in future #Typography Tuesday posts!

View our other Typography Tuesday posts.

[robbialy]

From • @kevinwestenberg MOJO MAGAZINE. RECENT PUBLISHED WORK. SPIRITUALIZED. PURE PHASE Album Press shoot. Nov 22, 1994. Photo: ©Kevin Westenberg. Shot ‘Guerrilla’ style on the streets of London’s east end. This image gives me a warm fuzzy feeling when I see it! For the overall imagery and mythology of the band and as a timeless photograph. Definitely one of my top 10. On the contact sheet, this in fact is one of only two frames snapped as we were transitioning from one location to another. Jason was confident enough to walk around in his space suit amongst suited city banker folk on Leadenhall Street so when I was walking ahead and looked back quickly, I just saw. Fortunately, there was film in the camera, rare during a location transition so I quickly shot just 2 frames with my Mamiya RZ and kept going, not thinking about it any further. Once I saw it on the contact sheet days later that it literally jumped off the page! This is my version of ‘Abbey Road’ for the post post post-generation of stoner rock. By saying that I’m not comparing the importance but pointing out from a pure photographic view, the circumstances are similar. A completely unplanned captured moment. If we had tried for this perfection, we could never have made it happen. Just like with live gigs, you never know when these moments might happen. Ask Pennie Smith about her shot of Paul Simonon smashing his bass; the answer would be the same. What got me thinking about this shot, was reading about all those Spiritualized re-issues recently released. In those early days, most everything was staged, set-up and controlled too much. So when one of these totally unplanned gems comes along that endures the most critical test, the test of time, I must celebrate it. A MONSTER! Much time has passed now since it was taken, it’s only become more interesting. Photo: ©Kevin Westenberg. #mojo #mojomagazine #kevinwestenberg #purephase #electricmainline #spiritualized https://www.instagram.com/p/CdVmM1uMDgMcCCzREjY5MOUVaYIftFQyrxRezc0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[queenmarytudor]

Immediately afterwards the proclamation was made amidst such expressions of popular rejoicing, such a clamour and din and press of people in the streets, as not only you who were absent, but I who was present, can hardly find credible; and it was all the more marvellous for coming so unexpectedly. Men ran hither and thither, bonnets flew into the air, shouts rose higher than the stars, fires were lit on all sides, and all the bells were set a-pealing, and from a distance the earth must have looked like a Mongibello (Mountain Etna). The people were mad with joy, feasting and singing, and the streets crowded all night long. I am unable to describe to you, nor would you believe, the exultation of all men. I will only tell you that, as not a soul imagined the possibility of such a thing, when the proclamation was first cried out the people started off, running in all directions and crying out: “The Lady Mary is proclaimed Queen!” Mr. (Sir John) York was passing through Leadenhall Street, and hearing this tumult, thought it had another cause. He therefore cried out to the people that it was not true, and though he was on horse-back he escaped alive with difficulty.

An unnamed Italian resident in London, 20th July 1553

[mechanicalcurator]

Image from 'London City Suburbs as they are to-day ... Illustrated by W. Luker ... from original drawings', 001246166

Author: Fitzgerald, Percy Hetherington

Page: 231

Year: 1893

Place: London

Publisher: Leadenhall Press

View this image on Flickr

View all the images from this book

Following the link above will take you to the British Library's integrated catalogue. You will be able to download a PDF of the book this image is taken from, as well as view the pages up close with the 'itemViewer'. Click on the 'related items' to search for the electronic version of this work.

Open the page in the British Library's itemViewer (page: 000231)

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[paulrennie]

Book of the Day #322

Real Sailor Songs, 1973, The collection of broadsheet songs collected by John Ashton and with an introduction by AL Lloyd for The Broadsheet King, London UK.

I’ve posted before about the late 19C antiquarian books published by the Leadenhall Press, and their use of antique wood blocks etc.

This is re-print of Ashton’s famous book for the Leadenhall Press, in 1970s style. Mustard bookcloth and with lovely olive green endpapers.

Just the book needed for the present-day shanty revival.

[blprompt]

British Library digitised image from page 177 of "Real Sailor-Songs. Collected and edited by J. Ashton. Two hundred illustrations [Reproductions of broadsheets.]"

Image taken from: Title: "Real Sailor-Songs. Collected and edited by J. Ashton. Two hundred illustrations [Reproductions of broadsheets.]" Author(s): Ashton, John, 1834-1911 [person] British Library shelfmark: "Digital Store 11602.i.9" Page: 177 (scanned page number - not necessarily the actual page number in the publication) Place of publication: London (England) Date of publication: 1891 Publisher: Leadenhall Press Type of resource: Monograph Language(s): English Physical description: 97 leaves (folio) Explore this item in the British Library’s catalogue: 000129016 (physical copy) and 014912183 (digitised copy) (numbers are British Library identifiers) Other links related to this image: - View this image as a scanned publication on the British Library’s online viewer (you can download the image, selected pages or the whole book) - Order a higher quality scanned version of this image from the British Library Other links related to this publication: - View all the illustrations found in this publication - View all the illustrations in publications from the same year (1891) - Download the Optical Character Recognised (OCR) derived text for this publication as JavaScript Object Notation (JSON) - Explore and experiment with the British Library’s digital collections The British Library community is able to flourish online thanks to freely available resources such as this. You can help support our mission to continue making our collection accessible to everyone, for research, inspiration and enjoyment, by donating on the British Library supporter webpage here. Thank you for supporting the British Library. from BLPromptBot https://ift.tt/2RDRpV7